


Under the Black Cowl

by supremegreendragon



Series: Perfect [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bruce whomp, Concerned Alfred, Daddy Kink, Dark, I'm sorry I wrote this please forgive me, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Spanking, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secret Identity, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 14:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15221390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremegreendragon/pseuds/supremegreendragon
Summary: Sequel to 'Perfect.' When he found out that the Joker escaped Arkham, he didn't think the night could get any worse. He was horribly wrong.





	Under the Black Cowl

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if I wanted to write a sequel to my last fic, because my imagination just led to dark places. In the end, I decided to go through with writing this. Please mind the warnings.

"Did you enjoy the night, sir?" Alfred's black eyes looked through the rearview mirror.

Bruce sat in the back seat of the car, dressed in an expensive new suit that smelled like perfume thanks to one rather affectionate admirer. He fidgeted with his tie, hating how it felt like a snake wrapped around his neck. He had never been good at fancy-dos.

Guilt nudged at the back of his chest. He wasted a lot of time at that stupid party. Who knew how many thefts, rapes and murders he could've prevented within the last four hours? Gotham must have been swarming with crime by now. And where had Batman been? Safely tucked away in velvet and gold.

Bruce heaved a little sigh. Why did he let himself get talked into these things? Anita Moss was a wealthy young bachelorette who had invited him to her extravagant birthday party. She was small, blond and pretty, just Bruce Wayne's type. But her delicate figure masked the commanding personality she hid underneath. She wouldn't take no for an answer. And Bruce couldn't come up with an excuse not to attend.

Besides, if he hadn't gone, his image as a horny billionaire playboy might've been ruined. That kind of reputation kept Batman's secret identity safe, so he had to keep up appearances, even if it meant leaving Gotham unprotected for a little bit.

"Not exactly. But at least it's over," he said. He slid the tie off his neck. It felt good to be free from its constraints. It would feel even better once he got into his Batsuit, surveying the city from the top of the highest perch.

Alfred gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Miss Moss seemed delighted by your gift. You really know how to please your hosts, Master Bruce."

"Hmm," Bruce looked out the window. He ached to be back in the suit. It was more than an urge for him; it was a need, pure and strong. The Batsuit was his second skin: Bruce was the disguise. Batman was who he really was.

"It's been a long day for you, sir. What do you say to a long bubble bath before bed? Goodness knows you could use the rest."

Bruce's phone rang before he refused the request. Barbara Gordon was calling him. She rarely did so unless there was an emergency. Bruce was on the alert the second he saw her name on caller ID. He practically smashed the phone against his ear.

"Barbara? What's wrong?"

From the corner of his eye, he noted Alfred's concern.

When Barbara spoke, she sounded just as nerve-wracked as Bruce, "I've got some bad news. Actually…it's the worst news possible. Are you about to get in your suit?"

"I'll change as soon as I can. What's going on? Tell me now," he braced himself for anything, any kind of bad news imaginable. Scarecrow using his toxin on children. Two-Face taking an entire city block hostage.

Or….the worst case scenario would be-

"The Joker has escaped Arkham Asylum."

"Son of a bitch!" Bruce hissed through clenched teeth. Had all his efforts to create the new straitjacket been for nothing?

"There was nothing wrong with the Kelvar Straitjacket. But they had to let him out eventually. You knew they would. Prolonged use of any restraint can cause harm. They were legally obligated to give him breaks away from it."

"So, he grabbed his chance the minute he got his slimy hands on it. They pretty much giftwrapped the chance to him," Bruce couldn't hide the disappointment from his voice. Arkham Asylum had to be the most useless institution ever. He was damn tired of cleaning up after them.

"Their hands were tied, Batman. They had to do it or be charged with patient abuse. You knew this," Barbara repeated. She sounded like a mother nagging at her son. They both knew his anger was directed at the wrong thing.

"They still should've kept a closer eye on him while he was out of the jacket."

"Batman," Barbara's voice hardened, "It's the Joker. Even if they kept constant watch, he would've found a way."

She was right. And Bruce hated how right she was. He made a mental note to break as many bones as possible this time around. The longer it took the clown to recover, the longer it would take for him to cause any more trouble.

Barbara continued, "I don't know where he is right now. But I'm tracking every inch of the city."

"I understand. I'm almost to the manor. I'll join in on the search as soon as I can."

With that, he hung up. He looked at his butler.

"Alfred, you've gotta step on it."

Alfred sighed. He must've realized that there would be no convincing him to take a night off. They arrived at the manor in record time. Bruce sprinted out of the car with Alfred close at his heels.

"Sir. Wait!"

But Bruce didn't listen. He threw open the front door, fully intent on making a beeline to the Batcave. But as he hit the light, a loud pop echoed through the room, catching both men off their guard.

A banner appeared out of nowhere and dangled from the ceiling. Confetti snowed onto Bruce's fine suit. The banner read 'Let's hear it for Bruce!' in rainbow print. A smiley face was plastered at the very tip of the tail.

Men in clown masks swarmed into the room, all carrying rifles, all moving fast. They encircled Bruce before he had much chance to react.

"Unhand me, you crooks!" Alfred's voice cried out. Bruce snapped his head over to his direction. Two of the goons were dragging the butler away. Seeing his friend in peril angered Bruce.

"Let him go!" but two more goons grabbed both ends of his arms before he could start fighting. Bruce took a moment to calm down. He could easily punch both their lights out. But if he fought them off, they would realize Bruce Wayne wasn't as weak as he liked to portray himself.

In any case, it didn't look like they were about to kill either of them any time soon. Bruce had to be smart in this situation, not angry.

He would figure out a way to escape as Bruce Wayne and get into the Batsuit. That way, he could make it seem like the cowardly billionaire had called for help. That should keep people from asking any questions.

A disturbingly familiar voice boomed through the halls, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"You two really can make an entrance! You were bursting through the doors like there was a fire! What's wrong, Brucey? Got to use the toilet? Hahahaha!"

Joker came through the double doors located at the top of the stairs. He looked down at the two captured men with a large grin on his face. Somehow with the little time he had, he had managed to change out of his patient's garb into his traditional purple and orange suit.

Bruce clenched his fists. Be a normal citizen, he told himself. Gotham was counting on him.

Instead of glaring at the clown like he always did, he forced himself to look scared. The last thing he wanted was for the Joker to suspect there was more to Bruce Wayne than meets the eye.

"You? What are you doing here?" he asked in convincing terror. He snuck a glance in Alfred's direction, happy to note that he was still unharmed. If the two goons did anything to him, they were going to wish they were dead.

Joker skipped his way down the steps. He was now close to Bruce-too close. Being without the Batsuit made Bruce feel incredibly vulnerable in front of his enemy.

"I just wanted to visit ya, Brucey. Where've you been this whole time? We've been waiting for a whole five minutes! Let me guess. You were with some very important people at a very important party and drinking very important champagne. Am I right?"

The Joker could certainly act fast, Bruce would give him that. If he showed up just minutes after Oracle called Bruce, then he must've had everything prepared before his escape.

"What do you want?" Bruce kept on pretending to be afraid. He wanted nothing more than to beat him to a bloody pulp right now. He tried to think of all the reasons Joker would confront Bruce Wayne like this. Unlike the Penguin, the Joker had no real grudge against his billionaire persona. It was likely that the clown wanted to rob him. Yes, that must've been it, "I'll pay any amount. I promise! Just let us go!"

"Oh, you silly boy! Don't confuse little 'ol me for another gold digger of yours. I have more important reasons to be visiting you than your enormous bank account. But we'll talk about all that in private. There's something special I want to show you. It's a good thing I found the master bedroom while you were gone. Okay boys," he turned to the crooks who thought they had Bruce in place, "Help me take him there."

Suddenly Bruce's fear grew real. He couldn't leave Alfred with these people.

When Joker's men tried to pull him along, Bruce planted his feet firmly onto the ground. The goons pulled with all their might, but they couldn't get the billionaire to budge. They would've had better luck trying to carry a boulder.

Bruce kept his eyes on Alfred, as if looking away for even one second may make him disappear. He struggled to think of a way out of this situation. He couldn't trust Joker not to hurt him. The only way Bruce could be assured of the butler's safety was by sticking close.

Alfred's eyes widened and his face paled. He opened his mouth to scream.

"Sir! Look out behind—"

Before the butler could finish his warning, Bruce felt a sharp prick at the back of his neck. He yanked his head over to the Joker, who was now holding an empty syringe. Bruce wasn't surprised he hadn't noticed it sooner. Joker could find a way to hide a grenade launcher underneath his coat if he wanted.

"You really need to relax, Brucey!"

Some strange drug was running through his bloodstream. And Joker was here laughing in his face about it.

"What the hell did you give me!" Bruce yelled with such anger and authority that it even caught the clown off guard. The Joker looked at him as if for the first time ever.

When Bruce's limbs fell slack, he realized the drug had to be some sort of muscle relaxant. The goons were now able to move him a few inches, although it took their combined strength to achieve such a task.

But Bruce was having none of it. He turned his fear into adrenaline to fuel his wrath. He yanked his arm free from the henchman on his left.

"Hey. What?!" the goon from his left cried out. Bruce socked the guy to his right, then took down the other man in quick succession. Now every member of Joker's crew, aside from the men still holding onto Alfred, ganged up on him. His movements were a lot slower thanks to the drug, but he could still fight them off.

Bruce kept on punching, feinting, and countering. A few of them out went down before the Joker pulled out a bottle of strange liquid. Bruce figured it was the same liquid now coursing through his veins. Joker inserted the syringe at the top and refilled it with the drug. Bruce couldn't get away from his attackers long enough to stop him. The Joker shot towards the hero with a shocking amount of speed. He jammed it into his arm with enough force to bruise his skin. After the second injection, Bruce's body froze in place.

Joker backed away, stuffing the tool back inside his jacket. The previous mockery in his eyes had vanish. In its place was a look that Bruce couldn't quite identify.

"Get the old man. Don't hurt him unless I say otherwise. As with Brucey, I'll take it from here," the Joker didn't sound angry. As a matter of fact, he sounded…happy? What was going on? Green eyes sparkled at him with all the glee of a child looking at a big bag of candy.

He was so close. Bruce wanted to throw a punch, but his arm refused to obey him. Every part of his body moved like he had been dipped in wet concrete and now it was solidifying.

Joker grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him away with relative ease. The drug had turned Bruce into a doll. He had only enough tension in his muscles to keep from falling on the floor in a heap. When the Joker pulled him forward, he stumbled to follow. The clown whistled all the way to the bedroom.

"What did you give me?" Bruce was surprised his mouth worked normally. This drug seemed to be very selective on what muscles it slowed. Whatever drug he was given, he had a feeling that the Joker made it himself. If he could say once nice thing about Joker, it was that the man knew his chemicals.

They made it to the room.

"Shush. I want to talk to you. And now we're alone," he closed the door. The tone in Joker's voice had deepened until he almost sounded out of breath. His tongue licked the top side of his lip, while a Cheshire smile took up half his face.

He dumped Bruce onto the nearest armchair, before heading to the bed. The Joker grabbed the Kevlar straitjacket that had been lying on it. He showed it to Bruce. Despite its name, only the sleeves were made from Kelvar material. It was designed to keep the wearer's arms trapped inside, no matter how good of an escape artist they were. The jacket used the fabric's strength against them.

"See this? This almost single handedly kept me from ever playing with my honey again. Do you realize how terrible that would've been? I can't even let myself think about it! And just think how angry I was to find out that your donations made up almost all the funding for this!"

So that was why he was here. Bruce had expected Joker to take his anger out on Batman if he had ever escaped. He never thought that he would be interested in getting revenge on Bruce Wayne. Of course, Bruce did a lot more than just fund the project. He also came up with the design and tested it on himself. Not even he had been able to escape it without Alfred's help.

But the Joker didn't need to know how he did all that.

And could the clown stop giving Batman pet names like 'honey?' It made Bruce want to throw up every time he heard him talk about his alter ego like that. He always spoke of Batman as if he was something that belonged to him, one of his toys to be played with. Bruce wanted crooks like Joker to fear the image of Batman. Instead the Joker chose to make a mockery of his name. That was a typical move on his part.

Bruce's thoughts turned to Alfred. _Please let him be okay_. He couldn't lose him. He just couldn't. The sooner he escaped and took care of Joker as Batman, the better he'd feel. He would just have to get Joker's guard down first.

Bruce pretended to look terrified. If he were a real civilian playboy, he'd try to lie, but be unconvincing. If that was the part he had to play, then he could pull that off. He was a good actor, something that came naturally to him thanks to his secret identity.

"I've….I've never seen that in my life. I don't know what you're talking about."

Joker quirked an eyebrow. His smile was one of malicious amusement.

"Is that right?" he approached him once more.

"I swear I'd never try to anger you."

The Joker chuckled, "Playing nice now, are we? After you attacked my men?"

"I was….I was just scared…"

The Joker stop just in front of him. Bruce had to look up in order to maintain eye contact.

"And you lash out like an animal when you're scared? Are you crazy? Maybe you are. Maybe you're the one who should be in this suit," he gestured toward the jacket.

"Really, I've never seen that before. I don't even know what it is. I would never do anything to anger you. You're…."

Joker smirked smugly, but it appeared that he was listening, something he didn't do for most people. Bruce was surprised he had let him ramble on this long.

It didn't matter. Bruce was just thankful he had managed to distract him. If the drug would only wear off, he could save Alfred. Bruce urged his stubborn feet to move, but nothing happened.

The Joker was still waiting for him to continue.

"You're the Joker," he said at last, "You've killed hundreds of people. Even other crooks are afraid of you. If you were to fight someone like the Penguin, he'd be just a pile of feathers! And if you were to fight Poison-"

Slap! Joker's hand smacked his cheek so hard that Bruce's face snapped in the other direction. Joker frowned at him.

"Don't mention other villains. You'll make me jealous."

"I'm sorry, Joker."

Joker licked his lips. Odd, Bruce thought. What was that look in his eyes? What was Joker planning?

"You've been very naughty. I think I should punish you."

"No! Please don't kill me," Bruce wanted to shoot himself. Pleading for his life in front of the Joker? He would never live this moment down.

"I'm not going to kill you, Brucey. You're too important to me."

What a strange lie. Joker had said some weird things in the past, but this one was up there. What reason did the clown have to lie about something like that? Was he trying to lead Bruce Wayne to a false sense of security? Or did he have plans for Bruce Wayne that he considered 'important?'

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Did your daddy ever spank you?"

Bruce chilled. No, he wouldn't go this far with the staged fear. He jumped at the Joker with every intent to choke him unconscious.

Or at least that was what he would've done, if his body had obeyed his will to get out of the chair. But all he managed to do was raise his chest the tiniest bit possible. Joker noticed the attempt.

"Going somewhere?" taunted the clown.

"Don't touch me," Bruce's fake terror had vanished. To his surprise, the Joker wasn't shocked by his sudden change in emotion.

"Sorry, baby. But you've got to learn your lesson. Now be a good Brucey and come 'ere."

Joker pulled up a desk chair, spun it around with one hand, and sat himself on it. He grabbed Bruce by the hips and yanked him over his lap. Bruce wanted nothing more than to struggle.

He made a mental note to find the drug Joker had injected him with. He would use it on the clown the next time he threw the man into Arkham. See how he liked it.

"You'll pay for this!" Bruce was sure his face was a beet red from the shame that he felt.

"Ten smacks for the jacket. Another ten for mentioning someone else. Sound good? Then let's get started."

Joker's hand landed on his ass with an amazing amount of force. When it came to brute strength, Batman had the Joker beat hands down. But that didn't mean the Joker couldn't pack a wallop if he wanted to.

"One, two, three—" Joker counted each and every stroke. Bruce let out a sigh of relief as the last slap echoed through the room.

"Oh! Silly me! You were supposed to count them out, not me! Oh well. It looks like we'll have to start over."

Bruce paused. What did he-

SLAP!

He gritted his teeth.

"Count them out."

Bruce remained quiet.

"Count. Them. Out. Don't want to be short a butler, do you?"

Fucking clown! Bruce braced himself for what he was about to do.

"One," he said. He'd face any kind of humiliation to keep Alfred safe. And it seemed that the Joker knew it too. Had the clown done some research on Bruce Wayne before coming here?

The slaps were as merciless as ever. Bruce's rear tingled with pain as he counted every spank. He had always known that the Joker could hit with a lot of force. He had given Bruce more than his fair share of bruises, after all. But without the ability to fight him off, Bruce realized that he was even stronger than he had given him credit for.

"Twenty." Damn, that stung. He was glad he could keep the pain from showing on his face. In times like these, the little victories were what kept Bruce's morale up.

"Good boy," Joker cooed, "You feel better now, don't you?"

_Go to hell._

"Oopsie daisy," Joker heaved the man and placed him on the floor. He then recovered the straitjacket, "You know. At first, I was just joking. But now I'm thinking I'll enjoy myself to see you try this on. I bet you'll look sexy in it."

Bruce's blood ran cold. He stared at the jacket as if it would be the last thing he would ever see. Wasn't it enough that the clown had drugged him? He could imagine the Joker taking this level of precaution on Batman. But for Bruce Wayne, this was overkill.

The Joker slid it over him. He made sure the restraints were nice and tight, making Bruce sorely missing the constricting tie he had on earlier.

A bleached white hand stroked his cheek. Joker patted his face lovingly. Bruce sat on his knees, the drug keeping him immobile, with the straitjacket wrapped around his frame. The Joker kneeled right in front of him. He seemed to have taken a liking to touching Bruce's face. The proximity made Bruce shudder.

There was only one good thing about all of this. If Joker was here tormenting him, then he wasn't out in Gotham causing havoc.

"Look at you. You wear that much better than I do, if I say so myself. Ya know, I've never thought about it before, but you're beautiful. I can see why you have so many girls fawning over you. Of course, after tonight, you won't be inviting any more girls to bed."

And then the Joker kissed his cheek. Bruce let out a noise of disgust, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He spat at him. It was the only thing he could do. With a chuckle, Joker wiped himself clean. He shook his finger like he was patronizing a child.

"Now now. Be a good boy or you're going to get another spanking. How can I resist when you're so freaking adorable?"

Bruce suddenly realized what that strange look on Joker's face had been. Somehow or another, the clown had become attracted to his playboy persona.

The fact that Joker liked men didn't shock Bruce as much as the clown liking anyone period. The Joker had always seemed too narcissistic to think much of how other people looked. True, he flirted with Batman more times than Bruce could count, but he always assumed that was just to get on his nerves. Which, if Bruce was being honest with himself, was a strategy that had often worked.

Bruce never thought anything would come out of it. And he never in a million years imagined Joker to be kissing him like that. When the clown licked his lips, Bruce figured that he was just getting started. He gritted his teeth. When he had trained himself all those years, all his martial arts instructors had warned him of the possibility of rape. They said that it didn't matter if the victim was a man or a woman. The bad guys would do anything to break his spirit.

He had been trained not to react in these situations. But he still had never imagined himself actually in one of them.

And yet here he was about to get raped. By the Joker no less. The clown was probably looking to humiliate Bruce Wayne before killing him.

"Look at you. Shaking like a leaf. What's the matter? Afraid I'll be too rough?" the Joker taunted.

Bruce steadied his nerves. If this was going to happen, then he couldn't stop it. But he wouldn't let the Joker think he was scared. He sent him his coldest glare.

"Do your worst, you freak."

Truthfully, Bruce was terrified. The last time Bruce remembered ever being this scared, he was eight years old and holding the two bodies of his parents, as the life drifted from their eyes.

Joker frowned.

"Oh, I will," he promised, "When I'm done with you, you'll never fuck another whore again. I'll be more than enough to satisfy your mojo, pretty boy."

Why was he talking like this was going to happen a second time? Bruce thought he was planning on killing him right after fucking him. Was he thinking of making this a reoccurring thing? There was no way in hell that would happen. Bruce would sooner die than let himself be a sex doll for the Joker.

He closed his eyes tight when Joker's face came near, his tongue poking out. The slimy digit trace along his jaw, causing Bruce to shudder. Joker's sour and sweet-smelling breath made him nearly lose his lunch.

He had endured many horrors before. But not even he was strong enough for this. Everything about the Joker filled him with disgust. What could Harley possibly see in him?

Now—God!-Joker was nibbling his ear. That area of his body had always been particularly sensitive for him. Bruce kept his eyes closed, trying to imagine himself anywhere else in the world. He tried to convince himself that he was still at Moss's party. He must've had too much wine and had passed out on the couch. And all of this (Goddammit, the teeth were trailing down to his neck!) was just a nightmare. He would wake up with a huge hangover, and Alfred would insist he take the rest of the night off.

And this time, Bruce wouldn't be so quick to refuse. After this experience, he would just want to shower for hours on end. He would deal with feeling guilty for leaving Gotham unprotected later.

Joker grabbed at his crotch area, causing Bruce's eyes to shoot open. Nope, this wasn't a dream. No amount of telling himself otherwise would change that horrible fact.

"Damn. Not hard at all, pet? I'll change that."

"I'm not your pet," Bruce growled.

"Hmm. Yes. Be angry. I always like it when you're angry. It's hot as fuck."

Bruce paused, "Tonight is the first time you've ever seen me angry."

"Hmm. Is it….Bats?"

Bruce had to swallow the bile that rose from his throat. He knew. The Joker knew.

Bruce hadn't expected this night could get any worse. Way to kick a man when he was down. But with the Joker, he could not only kick a man when he was down, he could force him to watch his family die in front of him, rape him, give him all the STD's in the book, and rip his lung out before he'd finally decide to finish him off.

The Joker knew. It was too nauseating to think about. If the Joker knew, then Bruce's loved ones would never be safe again.

"Oh, no. Don't do that, sweetheart. Looking scared….it doesn't suit you at all. I want you angry. Or happy, if you'd prefer. But not scared. I don't want you scared of me right now. Not when we're having such a special time together."

Bruce forced his voice out, "Who said I was scared?"

The Joker chuckled like he had just witnessed something very endearing.

"Is that a trick question? You're almost as pale as me right now."

"How long have you known?"

"I just figured it all out tonight, Batsy. Only you could beat up my men after one injection. Though I gotta say, I've never expected you to be Bruce Wayne. Not that I'm complaining! Your face was probably carved by angels. I'm so glad the love of my life is not only Batman, but hot as fuck too!"

As if to reiterate that fact, Joker kissed his nose. Bruce cringed. The display of affection was too innocent for someone like the Joker. It was all wrong.

Joker groped around him, as if he was trying to find the best way to hold onto an oversized doll. Bruce struggled to move even an inch. The drug wasn't going to wear off anytime soon.

"I've gotta figure out what makes you hard. Mind sharing that with me, Bats?"

Bruce glared at him. Joker simply shrugged his shoulders.

"That's fine. I'll figure it out myself."

He positioned Bruce's body so that his back was resting on the Joker's chest. Bruce's ear had landed uncomfortably close to Joker's lips. Like he had feared, Joker resumed his earlier nibbling, teeth barely grazing him.

Joker's legs wrapped themselves around Bruce's waist. He forced Bruce's head to face his, before planting a firm open mouth kiss. He stuck his tongue inside Bruce, seemingly forgetting that Bruce had full control over his jaw.

Bruce bit the offending digit hard enough for it to bleed. Joker pulled away. He licked his lips, revealing how red his tongue had become, before giving Bruce a chiding look.

"You're about to get another spanking," he warned. That only pissed Bruce off more.

"And you're about ten seconds away from me killing you."

The Joker burst out laughing, causing Bruce's ears to ring from the sudden loud noise.

"Drugged up, tied down and still talking tough? Sometimes you're too cute for your own good. And stupid at the same time! Don't forget I have Alfie stowed away in case you misbehave."

A lump caught in Bruce's throat. Joker's thumb stroked his cheek, tender enough to make it tickle a little. The thumb dug itself in between Bruce's lips, meeting with teeth closed shut to prevent entrance. A stormy gaze flickered across Joker's features. Getting the message, Bruce opened his jaw to let the thumb inside.

For being bleached in chemicals, Joker's thumb was surprisingly no different from any other human flesh. The same dry, salty taste accompanied it. It was times like these that would remind Bruce that Joker was technically human, even though the clown didn't act like it.

Joker added two fingers to go along with the thumb. Together the digits roamed around in Bruce's mouth, like they were inspecting a horse. The Joker withdrew his hand and leaned his head closer.

"Let's try this again."

His lips crashed against Bruce's. This time Bruce forced himself not to fight off the unwelcomed tongue. He could taste the metallic blood still seeping from the Joker's wound. It was sweet and coppery and disgusting. Bruce wanted nothing more than to brush his teeth for an hour after this kiss.

Suddenly, Joker's hand dug inside Bruce's pants, almost causing the man to lose his cool. _Don't react. Don't show emotion. Don't-_

He sucked in a breath the moment he felt Joker's hand grab his cock. Joker squeezed just tightly enough to not hurt him, but still make him unable to ignore the touch. Bruce winced. Pain he was able to disguise easily, because he was so used to it. Pleasure, however…..

He gasped. Joker's thumb decided to rub one of his balls.

"That's it," Joker praised. It took Bruce a second to understand where Joker's sudden approval came from. Once he found out, he wanted to die on the spot. His member was hardening against his will.

Encouraged, the clown rubbed a little more. Then he started to massage the shaft with a firm grasp. Bruce tried not to breathe, afraid that doing so would result in him making more noise.

But it proved impossible. Joker released him and took his hand out of Bruce's pants. But before Bruce could feel the smallest amount of relief, Joker pulled his pants down to his ankles. The clown had to struggle to move Bruce's feet so that he could get them off completely. Once the task was finished, Joker did the same with his underwear.

Bruce felt the cold air hit his skin, goosebumps quickly forming. He shuddered, but otherwise couldn't move an inch, let alone fight off the Joker.

"See how much easier things are when you're a good boy? Hey, that reminds me. You're an orphan, right?"

Bruce just stared at him, somehow keeping himself from wincing. Of course, the Joker would bring that topic up just before he raped him. Cruelty was second nature to him.

His silence didn't faze the clown. Joker's green eyes gleamed at him as if he was the rarest diamond in the world.

"If you're an orphan, then that means you could use a daddy. Tell you what. I'm feeling charitable today, so I'll be more than happy to take the role."

"I'm not into that sort of thing," Bruce said begrudgingly. He knew the Joker didn't give a rat's ass about what he wanted. Whenever the Joker got an idea inside his head, he would anything to make it a reality.

Joker gave him a look. Bruce just glared back at him, not willing to negotiate this. It wasn't just the humiliation part that made Bruce reluctant. It was the memory of his father, a man he would never be able to live up to. He along with his mother were his idols; they were the ones who helped make Batman a reality. They were the reason he got out of bed every day. Participating in Joker's daddy kink would be an insult to his memory of them.

"It's really for your own good, Bats," Joker spoke in a serious voice, his gaze almost hard, "You need someone to fill that hole in your heart. I can do that the same time I fill your other holes too."

"When I get out of here, you're going to wish you had stayed in Arkham."

Joker's green eyes lit up, lips spread into a wide grin, showing off shiny teeth that almost looked too big. Bruce fought the drug in his system, once again failing. His body was lead.

"Are you threatening me? You're going to make Daddy cry!" he smiled crazily.

"Fuck off."

"Call me Daddy."

"I said, fuck off!" Bruce's heart rose to his chest, his jaw tight. He couldn't wait for the chance to break every bone in the clown's body.

Joker went silent. He seemed to be thinking about something. That was never a good thing for Bruce.

He grabbed Bruce's naked legs and pulled them over his shoulders. Bruce's head nearly fell to the floor as his ass was being lifted in the air. The clown managed to get his feet locked over each other until Bruce had unwillingly wrapped his legs around his enemy.

Joker cupped one of Bruce's firm cheeks. The billionaire realized his fingers were still moist from entering his mouth earlier. Bruce tried to steady his breath to calm his growing panic. The inevitable was quickly gaining up on him, and he only now realized that he wasn't ready. He was afraid. And he knew it must've shown on his face.

Joker tsked-tsked at him.

"What did Daddy say about being scared of him?"

Bruce was at a loss for words. He couldn't even get onto Joker for the 'daddy' remark. He wished he had paid more attention to the Joker before the clown could drug him up twice. He wished he had broken a few bones before he stuffed Joker into the straitjacket back in the asylum.

Hell, he almost wished he had killed the Joker when he had the chance.

Joker's wet finger slipped between the cracks of his ass. Bruce resisted the urge to beg him to stop. It wouldn't lead anywhere. The clown was going to do what he wanted, regardless of how Bruce felt about it. Besides, begging him would probably only get Joker more excited.

The finger poked at his hole, not yet entering inside, but threatening to at any moment. Joker kept his green eyes locked onto Bruce's baby blues. Terror made his breathless. Joker smiled when he saw the effect his treatment was having on the hero.

"Oh, I can't stay mad at you. Not with a cute little face like that. Go ahead and be scared, baby boy. But don't worry your head too much. I promise it will feel really good."

The finger then began to push. Bruce sealed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to imagine himself someplace else. As if trying to keep the invader out, his asshole clenched tightly around Joker. But the clown's finger had the advantage in strength. With no small amount of force, the finger broke through the barrier, inciting a small gasp from Bruce. It felt cold as ice compared to his hot insides.

Joker's finger proceeded to move in and out of him. Bruce, having never experimented with anal before, wasn't sure what to make of this strange sensation. It didn't hurt, but it definitely didn't feel good either. It just felt….different.

Then Joker added another finger. He used the two as scissors, splitting Bruce open. Now there was a little bit of pain to accompany the feeling. Scratch that, a lot of pain. Bruce clenched his teeth together to keep from making a sound.

From up above him, Joker chuckled darkly.

"Your expressions are so delightful, Bats. If you look this good in pain, I can't imagine how you'll look withering in pleasure."

"Stop it," Bruce muttered more to himself than to Joker.

"Hmm? What's that, Bats?"

Bruce groaned.

"I said stop it! Get them out right now, dammit!"

He still didn't look at the Joker. He refused to make eye contact, too humiliated by the turn of events. Joker inserted a third finger instead of doing what Bruce demanded of him. This finger was dry, making it hurt even more when it breached Bruce's entrance.

"I'll teach you to talk to me like that," Joker sounded pissed. For a split second, Bruce felt smug at getting on his nerves. But the feeling of victory was short-lived. Joker was now thrusting inside him so roughly that it was clear the clown wanted him to hurt.

Bruce yearned to be able to struggle. His body could do nothing but let Joker treat it however he wanted to. The Joker's three fingers stretched him out as much as possible. Bruce could almost hear himself splitting open.

"Oh, baby. You're bleeding," the Joker said with remorse.

Bruce could feel liquid trailing down his ass. Despite pretending to care, the Joker still hadn't pulled out. The billionaire kept his eyes shut tight. He had a feeling that Joker was smiling at him, and his shit-eating grin was the last thing he wanted to see right now.

"Yeah? And who's fault is that?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll go a bit easier on you. Poor thing. Now, what can I use for lube, eh? Oh, I know!"

He yanked out his fingers. The clown was moving around so much that it caused the curious Bruce to finally open his eyes. Joker had pulled out the bottle he had earlier.

"This should be good enough for now."

Bruce glared at him.

"Hold on, darling. I need you to let go so Daddy can get ready," with that, the clown unhooked Bruce's legs from around him.

Joker raised himself a bit, pulled his pants down to his ankles, and revealed a bleached white cock underneath. Even the pubic hair was as green as what grew from the top of his head. Bruce realized that Joker wasn't any bigger than him, but he was most certainly longer. Almost too long to be something natural. Bruce briefly wondered if it had something to do with the chemicals that Joker had been dunked in.

The clown opened the bottle, then poured the green liquid directly on his cock. He stroke himself in order to coat the organ as thoroughly as possible. Joker looked at Bruce, and the hero couldn't tear his eyes away. For the first time in a millennium, Bruce wanted to call for help. He wanted someone to come rescue him in the nick of time. His ass was sore from Joker's abuse. He knew it would only get worse at the night dragged on.

Unless someone came through those doors and saved him. Right now.

"What are you looking at, honey?" Joker asked. Bruce realized his eyes had trailed over to the door, "Don't worry. None of my men will come and see, you shy little minx. And if they do, then I'll just kill them before they could spread hurtful rumors about you. Isn't that just so nice of me?"

Suddenly, the Joker was deadly serious. The determination on his face caught Bruce off guard. The clown grabbed his legs.

_Great. He's doing it again._

Joker hooked Bruce's legs around him like before, but instead of draping them over his shoulder, he secured them around his waist.

Bruce felt the tip of Joker's organ probing at his entrance. He bit his lip and closed his eyes tight. Nothing was happening, he tried to convince himself. It was all just a dream.

The cock slid inside with relative ease, but still hurt like hell with every inch that breached Bruce's insides. The drug coating Joker's cock made for surprisingly efficient lubricant. Or maybe the small amount of blood inside Bruce helped. The hero tried not to think about which it was.

Joker kept pushing until the base of his cock touch Bruce's ass cheeks. Despite his attempts, Bruce couldn't ignore the incredibly long dick inside him. If he was a little more naïve about the human body, he would've sworn that the Joker had somehow reached his guts.

"Fuck, Bats! You're so much more than I ever dream of. This feeling….." the Joker trailed off. For once, it seemed he was at a loss for words.

Then he began to move. Bruce's insides were burning, pain mixed with pleasure filling him up. Joker pulled out slowly only to thrust back in with twice the speed. Bruce steadied himself for Joker's cruel rhythm.

Inside the straitjacket, Bruce thought he felt his finger twitch. Hope bubbled in his chest. He tried to move it again, but it refused to budge. While Joker's cock pounded into him, Bruce focused on getting himself to move. Even in the straitjacket, if he could overcome the drug, then he could at least struggle.

Skin slapped against skin. The Joker had increased his speed. Bruce could no longer tell if the burning sensation hurt or felt good. Every time the cock pulled out a little, the feeling of the cock pushing back inside took Bruce's breath away.

"Why so quiet, baby boy?" the Joker sounded a tinge out of breath, "Daddy wants to hear your delicious moans. Go ahead and scream for me."

He gave a particularly brutal thrust, more forceful than any of the ones before it. The cock seemed to hit something inside Bruce that made his eyes snapped open. Bruce wanted to tell Joker to fuck off, yet he was afraid that he would moan if he so much as opened his mouth.

So, he bit the inside of his lip. Joker, seeing the effect the last thrust had on Bruce, struck the same spot as before. He hit it over and over, making Bruce's insides twist and burn. Why did it feel so good and awful at the same time? If Bruce was a weaker man, he would've been in tears. Everything about what was happening to him felt wrong.

Pleasure be damned. He wanted it to stop.

He was speaking before he realized it, "Please."

A flash of light seemed to glimmer in Joker's eyes. His smile curled in a way that made it look more real than normal, as if he was truly smiling for the first time in his life.

"Please what, baby boy?"

"Please…..stop."

The smile crashed. Joker's thrusting grew brutal. An angry look spread across the clown's face, no longer trying to pleasure Bruce, but instead punish him for something Bruce wasn't sure he did.

"When I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to keep going. Not to stop."

"I don't like what you're doing! Get it through your fucking head, you rapist!"

Bruce struggled once more to move. His fingers twitched! He was sure of it this time. Using his full willpower, he was able to nudge them on his own the slightest bit.

Joker couldn't see since the straitjacket covered Bruce up. The fucking clown would soon find out that his brilliant idea of stuffing Bruce inside would backfire. He would be unprepared for the upcoming attack.

Stars erupted from Bruce's sight as Joker sent his most forceful thrust yet. The clown hit the sweet spot so many times that Bruce forgot about trying to move. The pain and pleasure combined was all he could think about. Thrust in. Thrust out. Bruce's body pushed back from the impact of the Joker's rough treatment.

His silence became moans, and his moans soon became grunts. Then all sorts of sounds spilled from Bruce's lips, making him flush with shame. The Joker's smile returned, and Bruce could tell that the clown was getting close.

And to Bruce's shame, he was getting close as well.

His vision became blurry. His cock filled with the strong need to be released. If Joker so much as poked his dick, Bruce was sure he would be sent over the edge.

The Joker's eyeballs rolled back. A second later he was spilling inside Bruce with his hot seed. Bruce could finally see clearly again, but only because Joker was no longer thrusting. He refused to look the clown in the eye.

Joker grabbed his chin and forced his head back in his direction. He pulled Bruce forward, before planting a soft kiss on his mouth.

When Joker let go, he looked at Bruce's aching member, balls swollen and full.

"Oh darling. Here I was only thinking of me, when you need to feel good too."

He grabbed onto Bruce's shaft, only having to stroke a few times before Bruce saw white. His seed splattered onto the Joker's hand. Joker flashed him a smile so smug that Bruce wanted to punch it off. His arms finally broke free of the drug's influence. Bruce was careful not to let the Joker realized this right away.

"Such a dirty boy. I think I should give you a bath before I leave, hm?" Joker smeared his cum-covered hand onto the carpet.

The Joker displayed a rare act of kindness by pulling Bruce's pants back up. Bruce thanked his lucky stars. Even without the drug's power over him, he still needed help with that.

Joker toppled over Bruce's body and kissed his forehead. It seemed that he decided lying on the floor would be more comfortable than the bed. The clown pulled Bruce closed to his chest.

"My men can wait a little while longer. I just want to hold you tight. Make sure not to ever let you go. You're the cheese in my macaroni, my little flying rodent."

Bruce prepped himself mentally, his hands clenching into fists underneath the straitjacket. He shuddered by how close his rapist was. Bruce remained quiet, while Joker was content to do all the talking.

"I think things are going to change between us. This is the start of a beautiful new relationship."

Joker poked at Bruce's bottom lip with his index finger. He didn't notice Bruce's left leg move. Bruce's foot pressed against the floor, waiting for the right moment to spring his body upwards and attack the clown.

"We should think about establishing some new rules between you and me. I wasn't joking about mentioning other villains. You don't need to associate with them, fight with them, or even talk to them. Really, I'm the only one you need to worry about, Bats. So, don't even think about the others from now on. And if you want your identity nice and private, you'll keep me away from Arkham. It's not good for my mental health. Too much stress, you know? All those orderlies keep me away from my real medication: You. Also, I think you should start listening to me more often. Like if I want to meet somewhere, you need to drop what you're doing and-"

Before Joker could finish that sentence, Bruce sprang to his feet. Joker was too stunned to react to the oncoming attack. Angry, Bruce's foot came barreling onto the Joker's skull, knocking the clown unconscious.

Bruce stared at the clown with hate filled eyes. He felt like throwing up, and for a twisted moment considered vomiting on his foe to make him feel as dirty as he did right now. But Bruce thought better of it, figuring that Joker wouldn't mind if he did that anyway. The disgusting clown might even get off on it.

He forced himself out of his thoughts. Joker could wait. He had to find Alfred.

Bruce tackled the door open, making a dash toward the henchmen. Anger and shame fueled him in his attack. The men didn't stand a chance, even though Bruce was tied up. Bruce kicked one in the chin and blood flew everywhere as the man fell onto the floor. Bruce rammed another one into the wall, knocking him unconscious.

Hatred and disgust fueled his actions. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he swiveled and was just about to do a roundhouse kick when he saw that it was only Alfred. The red vision of anger drifted away from Bruce's vision long enough for him to see that all the henchmen were down.

Alfred studied him. Bruce happily noted that he looked unharmed, save for a few creases of his outfit where the goons had grabbed him. Worry etched into Alfred's features, before his eyes widened as if something had just occurred to him.

"I'll get you out of there immediately, Master Bruce."

He proceeded to help Bruce out of the straitjacket. For a moment, Bruce thought of happier times when he was just a kid and Alfred had to help him get dressed.

When Bruce was free, he looked down at the piles of unconscious bodies. He knew Alfred was looking at him with scrutiny. He prayed that Alfred would never find out what the Joker did to him. He couldn't take his old mentor's pitying looks if that were to happen.

Alfred frowned at the henchmen.

"I'll wager they'll know not to mess with Bruce Wayne again. From now on they'll probably be just afraid of you as they are of Batman."

Bruce got the hint.

"They won't figure it out."

"I hope you're right."

Bruce grabbed his phone out of his pants, trying not to think about the wetness and the pain underneath there.

"Hello, police? It's Bruce Wayne. I need….I need help! I've been attacked in my own home. Yeah, I'm alright. I managed to knock them out. They're unconscious. Yeah….yeah….I guess it was luck. Although I heard a lot of noise coming from my bedroom, then suddenly it got quiet. I'm kind of afraid to go in there. Yes, please come! Bring all the police officers you can!"

"You're very good at playing the hysterical civilian, sir," Alfred said once Bruce hung up, "But why lie about your bedroom?"

Bruce turned to him, "I knocked the Joker out before coming to rescue you. Bruce Wayne couldn't have done that, even with 'luck.' With my story, the cops can come up with their own conclusion."

"You want them to put together that Batman had saved us. And in his typical mysterious fashion, he fled the scene into the night," Alfred gave him a look. His eyes grew serious, "But I would think that the Joker knows who really knocked him out."

Bruce wanted to ease the old man's worries. With everything that happened tonight, the one thing he wanted was for Alfred to sleep peacefully and save his worries tomorrow.

"He's a pathological liar. No one would believe him if he says anything. And if people start to ask questions, I'm sure I can stage a public meeting between myself and Batman."

Alfred gasped, as if a thought just struck him, "Does he know who you are?"

Bruce frowned. There would be no point in lying to him about that. Even if he did, Alfred would find out the truth eventually.

"Yes."

He couldn't read the expression on his butler's face. Whatever Alfred was feeling, it came with a long silence. Maybe a million emotions were running through him, and the poor old man was deciding which to choose.

In the end, it looked like he settled for none of the above, as his face became blank.

"Then I'd imagine he can't go back to Arkham."

"He will."

That shocked Alfred.

"But sir. It might be wise to find another location. Perhaps the Justice League will help."

"No!" Bruce didn't mean to shout. He forced his panic back down in his chest, "No. I don't think that will be a good idea."

If the Joker ever saw his hero friends again, he wouldn't resist telling them all about how he raped Batman. Bruce wouldn't suffer through that kind of humiliation. He would not give the clown the satisfaction of digging one more knife in the wound.

"But sir-"

"Please wait for the police outside," Bruce's tone held no room for argument. He rarely abused his power as Alfred's employer, however he would make an exception in this case. He wanted to keep Alfred out of harm's way on the very slight chance that anybody he took down regained consciousness.

Alfred gave him a look, clearly wanting to argue. Instead, he left. Bruce breathed out a sigh of relief. It appeared that Alfred had no idea what the Joker did.

Now to make sure it stayed that way.

Narrowing his gaze, Bruce went back to the bedroom, fully intending to wake the clown up and threaten him to keep quiet. He wanted nothing more than to never see his sick face again. But he had to force himself to interact with him one final time.

He sucked in a breath, then threw open the door….

Only to find the Joker nowhere in sight. He had to be close. Bruce was only gone a few minutes, so if he started looking now…

He felt the cum still inside his ass. Bruce suddenly felt very tired and very defeated. He couldn't face him right now. He needed time to cope. Yes, it was a weak move. Yes, Bruce was ashamed that he was even considering letting the Joker go.

But he had enough for tonight.

The police came and rounded up the henchmen like cattle. They inspected Bruce's master bedroom, but of course couldn't find anything. Gordon offered to stay so he could make Bruce feel at ease.

"No, it's okay," Bruce was about to say when Alfred spoke up.

"That would be wonderful, Mr. Gordon," the butler kept his eye on Bruce, "I would certainly feel better."

Gordon looked between the two men, noting the exchange between them. Bruce drew a breath.

"Alright. If it will make you feel better, Alfred."

He wasn't sure why Alfred had insisted, but he had a funny feeling it was for Bruce's sake, not his own. Perhaps Alfred had realized that the Joker did something to Bruce while they were alone. And now he wanted to make sure the clown didn't come back tonight.

Or maybe he wanted to prevent Bruce from being Batman tonight.

Either way, it looked like Bruce was going to take the night off after all. He was determined to get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow night he would find his rapist and make him pay. But for tonight…..God, he just wanted one night off after what happened.

He would hate himself later.

Bruce swore on his life that when he threw the clown back in Arkham, there would not be one bone intact. The doctors wouldn't have enough of the clown to even stuff into a straitjacket.

"Then I'll prepare some coffee. Not for you, Master Wayne. I advise you to get yourself to bed."

Bruce hated it when he acted like his father. But he couldn't find it in his heart to argue. Suddenly numb, he made his way over to the guest bedroom. He couldn't face his actual bedroom tonight, not after what had happened. He took a shower that lasted more than an hour, brushed his teeth for a good twenty minutes, before finally allowing himself to go to bed.

He must've been more tired than he realized. He fell asleep almost before his head could touch the pillow.

When he woke up, a note was by his bed. He thought it was from Alfred. But as he read the contents, horror filled him. It was from the Joker.

_To the love of my life, the apple of my eye, and the best little boy that Daddy can ask for,_

_I cannot wait to fill you up again. Oh yes. I'm going to keep finding ways to spend another night with you. Just think. Instead of trading punches, we can be making each other feel in ecstasy. I think this is my best idea ever! And there's nothing for you to worry about. No one has to know that Batman belongs to me now. It will be our little secret. You tell that loser Gordon that you'll fight me alone, we have sex where no one can see us, and then you pretend as though I got away. Wash, rinse, and repeat._

_And just picture this. I'm good with make-up. I can give my skin a new pigment, you know? You'd be surprised what wonders a little foundation can do. Suppose Bruce Wayne were to introduce his new boyfriend to the world. His name could be Jake or Joe or something. Hm, I think I like Jack better. So, with Jack around, there'll be no need for Bruce to go chasing skirts anymore. And best of all, no one would expect him to._

_I have all these ideas about what our new relationship will look like. I'm so excited. I can barely hold this pen as I write this down, while watching you sleep so soundly-_

Here Bruce tore away from the note in disgust. Not only was the Joker trying to dictate how the rest of his life would work, but he was also spying on him the same night that he raped him.

He would need another shower after this. He thought about tearing the note up to shreds but discarded the idea. Maybe reading the rest of the note would provide a clue to the clown's whereabouts.

He kept on reading.

_But now I have to talk to you about your misbehavior. You really shouldn't have interrupted me when I was going through the new rules. I think that deserves some punishment. Don't ever forget that I know who you are. I know how important that butler is to yours. I know about all those boys you adopted over the years. I know you might still consider Two-Face a friend. Won't he like it if I spray some more acid on his face? Make him symmetrical again._

_In other words, I know everyone who Bruce Wayne was ever close to. So be a good boy for Daddy, and they can all live long happy lives. Behave like you did last night…well. Let's just say you've got plenty of loved ones. You can spare losing a few._

_When we meet next time, I want it to be alone. And I want you to start undressing yourself the second we are. If you don't do this, you're gonna regret it._

_Kisses_

_-J_


End file.
